The Moments We Pine For
by CrayonClown
Summary: This is a Secret Santa fic for Dispatch22705. She wanted B&B, pie, a birthday and a shirtless Booth.


**This is a Secret Santa fic for Dispatch22705. She wanted B&B, pie, a birthday and a shirtless Booth. Dispatch, I hope you enjoy this. You are very intimidating to write for as I love all of your fics. I hope that I've given you everything you desired plus much more in this. Your prompts gave me so many good ideas that I had several outlines made but I decided to combine some of them.**

**As we all do with the show, you'll need to take timelines as far as ages and birth months with a grain of salt. If you try to do the math, you'll get a headache. The writers have made it nearly impossible to keep up with things such as that, but also because I've manipulated some things in order to fit what I had in mind.**

* * *

**The Moments We Pine For**

Temperance Brennan watched as her partner returned from the bathroom to head back to their usual table at the Royal Diner.

"I have a surprise for you, Booth," she said as she pushed her plate away from her, having had her fill of the salad in front of her, and hoping that what she has set up for her partner will cheer him up even the slightest bit.

"For me? Why," he asked, his eyes already showing impatience with her, but not the bright-eyed anticipatory impatience that she expected. He was always excited about surprises. While she hates them, he loves them, but right now, he seemed to be annoyed with everything.

"Because it's something that I'm certain you will enjoy," she answered, hoping that once he actually heard what she'd set up that he would be in better spirits.

"Bones, what's this about?"

"Well, today is Parker's birthday and I thou—"

Booth raised his hand and interrupted her, "Unless you've got Parker hiding under the table, waiting to jump out and surprise me with his physical presence, I don't really want to talk about it." He picked up his fork, not really knowing why; he never used a fork while eating his burger or French fries. Regardless, he picked it up and started poking at his food, avoiding Brennan's imploring eyes.

This was actually the first time that either of them had mentioned Parker's birthday all day, and even so, it was a cloud that had loomed over Booth, the entire time. Brennan noticed it early on in their morning routine as he lazily went through the motions of getting ready for the day, as if he didn't look forward to any part of the day. She had wisely avoided the topic until now. Still, she hadn't expected him to be so short with her about it.

"You're irritable today," she jabbed back in response. He couldn't tell if it was a knee jerk reaction to how he'd spoken to her or if it was her usual blunt ability to blurt her observations with little regard to the feelings of those who may hear them.

It did not matter to him which it was, the comment just coming from _her_ was enough to make him reevaluate his tone. Solemnly, "Yeah, maybe a bit."

"Because Parker's in London and you're here," she surmised.

It really was not hard to figure out Seeley Booth. She had seen it coming even and just _knew_ based on who he was and what kind of father he was, that it would bother him. And it had bothered him, to the point of total distraction from his job and in his interaction with co-workers at both the Jeffersonian and the Hoover.

"Thirteen, Bones. Parker is a teenager, and I can't be there. I have never missed a birthday. _Never_. It didn't matter if me and Rebecca were on the outs or what else was going on, Rebecca always made sure that I was a part of his birthday celebrations." He put his fork down a bit more forcefully than was intended and wiped his hands on his napkin, still avoiding Brennan's eyes. "Even when it was beyond bad between us, she made sure that I was there. It didn't matter what I had done or what she thought about me at the time, she never wanted Parker to be without his father on his birthday. And even that year that I was supposed to spend in Afghanistan, I was only there for seven months and didn't miss his birthday. Actually, I got back just in time for that one." He made a mental note that he really needed to thank Caroline Julian for that one.

"Okay, yeah… you can't be there for him, but you can talk to him and let him know that you are thinking about him and that you love him on this important day for him," Brennan smiled as she held out her phone that had the video call app loaded and ready to go. "Go on, all you have to do is connect. He should be waiting."

"What do you mean he's waiting?" Booth asked, finally looking at her face.

"I called Rebecca earlier and told her that we would be free around this time when I was sure that we actually would be and that you would like to talk to Parker before he went to bed. He has soccer practice in the morning and right about now he should be getting ready for bed. I knew you would want to talk to him on his actual birthday and we have been busy today with the case and I know you hadn't yet had the chance. I just didn't want you or Parker to go through the whole day, not having spoken to each other."

Booth took the phone from her fingers. He turned it in his hands for a few moments. "I really didn't think I'd get the chance to talk to him today. Thanks, Bones."

He connected the call as Brennan watched the mood of her mate improve within seconds. His voice soft and tender, "Hey bub, Happy Birthday," a completely different tone than he'd used the entire day, even with her. Just like that, the clouds cleared from around him and his smile shined brightly, effectively clearing the previously stormy mood from the man she loves so dearly.

She stepped away from the table for a few minutes to give them a little time, and to use the restroom herself.

Upon returning, she took a seat at the bar and ordered two pieces of pie, to-go. While she was waiting, she watched as Booth smiled and talked animatedly to his son. The waitress placed the to-go box on the counter and as Brennan held out the cash to pay for the pie, the waitress waved her off telling her not to worry about it today. Brennan thanked her and picked up the boxes wondering if the waitress had picked up on Booth's sour mood and decided that he really needed the pie. She placed box in her tote bag and made her way back to the table.

"Here she is, Parks," Booth said into the phone as Brennan approached.

Instead of taking her previous seat across from Booth, she sat next to him and leaned into his side, putting herself into the view of the screen and camera of the phone.

"Happy Birthday, Parker! Did you get our gifts?" She asked, knowing full-well from talking to Rebecca earlier that they had arrived just in time.

"Yep, they were awesome. Thanks for the games, Bones."

"Your father helped me pick it out. I hope you've had a good day."

Parker nodded, his now shorter dark blond hair staying fixed in place, spiked up—much like his father's, Brennan thought.

"Now that I've talked to you guys, it's been nearly perfect."

"Nearly?" Brennan aksed.

"I miss you guys, both of you. I wish you were here. Today would have been perfect."

Brennan felt Booth's hand on her knee; she placed hers over his with a gentle squeeze. "It would have been much better for us, too."

"I miss you, too, Parks," Booth said.

"We both do."

.

.

After they finished at the dinner, the lab called with DNA confirmation that one of the suspects had been present at the murder scene. A judge had a warrant drawn up, ready and waiting for his signature when Booth called. They made their way to the Hoover and obtained a copy of the warrant within the hour.

Booth and Brennan needed to execute the search quickly, which meant they weren't done for the night, making the partners very glad that they'd had time during their dinner break to talk to Parker.

Booth's mood was marginally better than before. He was still irritable and snippy with people. The vast majority of the change was in his interactions toward Brennan, something for which she was very thankful.

It didn't take much longer than an hour for the forensic team to find what they needed, which Booth made clear wasn't fast enough, with Brennan reminding him that they were working as quickly and efficiently as possible without compromising the precision, thoroughness and quality of their search.

As the evidence was being packed up, Brennan was giving instructions to the FBI forensic team and telling them to call only if the results were not a match. The suspect was in custody and there would be nothing they could do until Monday. When she finished giving instructions, Booth came over after ending a conversation with another agent, "You're not having this sent to the Jeffersonian?"

"No. This is a straightforward case; I think they can handle this one. I told them to only call us in the case that it's not a match, which would void the arrest warrant and cause us to need to look at other options before the forty-eight hour holding limit is up on the suspect."

Booth was surprised at her answer. He knew very well that she thought the FBI crime techs were nothing more than amateur scientists who probably didn't make high enough grades in their coursework to earn degrees, which actually meant something in the world of science.

He chose not to bring it up, lest she change her mind and haul the evidence to the Jeffersonian Medico-Legal lab, and insist on doing to work of cataloging the evidence and running the tests herself—and effectively hampering their family time at home.

"Ready to head home, then?" He asked instead.

"Yes."

"Okay, we just need to swing by your dad's and pick up Christine, then—"

"Dad offered to keep her tonight, and she's probably already asleep. Let's not wake her, Booth. Tomorrow is Saturday, the suspect is in custody, and we don't have anything urgent in the morning. We can get her tomorrow."

"After not being with Parker today, I'd kind of want to cuddle our daughter and kiss her goodnight."

"But she's probably already asleep. I don't want to wake her up and have her struggle to go back to sleep when we arrive home. You know how frustrating that can be."

"Yeah, okay… sure, but we go get her first thing in the morning so I can hold her close," he squeezed her hand in plea as they walked to Booth's SUV.

"Of course."

The drive home was silent.

.

.

It started to rain just as Booth pulled into their driveway. Being the beginning of December in the Northeast, the air was chilled and the rain falling made it seem colder as Booth made a run for the door of their house to unlock it. As soon as his key slid in the lock and turned with practiced ease, he waved to Brennan to hurry out of the vehicle.

Booth had just managed to turn the cold slippery knob and push the door open as Brennan and her shrieks of "Cold!" joined him on the porch, causing them both to laugh as they burst into the house, dripping water from their clothes and hair.

Booth took Brennan's tote bag from her shoulder so she could shed her wet pea coat. He set it on the floor next to the shoes he'd just kicked off, which he was now regretting because as he stepped out, he placed his socked feet on the floor where they just dripped water.

"Aww, dang it!" He made a face as the cold water seeped into his socks. "Stay here, Bones. I'm going to get some towels so we don't drip water all over the house." He took off his socks and dropped them on top of his shoes.

He returned with several large beach towels, handing a few to Brennan. Booth took off his leather jacket and shook it out over the floor. Then he carefully dried it with one of the towels before draping it over the back of the couch and laying the towel down to clean up the floor.

"You should take your shirt off, too, Booth," Brennan told him as she picked up her tote bag and headed to the kitchen.

"Trying to get me naked already, Bones? I know it's rare that we have the house to ourselves these days, but we have the whole night."

"No, I mean the front of your shirt is soaked through from where your jacket didn't cover it. You must be cold."

Thankful for the open concept home, she watched from the kitchen as Booth tugged at the front of his shirt, looking down to see that she was correct. When he tugged the shirt, it raised just enough to give her a peek-a-boo view of his taut abdominal muscles.

Then he pulled the shirt over his head before feeling the front of his dark jeans to discover that they, too, had fallen victim to the sudden downpour. He unbuttoned and unzipped the fly and kicked out of the cold, damp heavy material of the jeans, draping them over his arm with the wet shirt and wet towel. Looking around, he sighed and grabbed all of the wet clothing and towels.

He disappeared into the laundry room and Brennan heard the sound of the dryer as it hummed to life.

Brennan took the to-go box from the diner out of her tote bag and plated one of the pieces of pie, placing the other in the refrigerator for later.

Brennan closed the refrigerator and turned just as Booth returned to the living room in his boxers.

"I'll wash the towels and stuff tomorrow, Bones. I just want to dry it now so that we don't have to deal with it tonight or deal with sour smelling clothes later." Booth plopped on the couch, tossing his head back to rest against the fluffy pillowed back of the couch, and exposed the smooth dark skin of his chest, sharp clean lines of his throat and adam's apple and the dark shading of the day's stubble on his jaw—a wonderful sight which caught Brennan's eye from across the large room.

"That's fine, Booth," Brennan grabbed two stemless glasses out of a cabinet, placed the bottle of wine in the crook of her arm and grabbed the plate with the pie and made her way to the couch.

The sound of Brennan's bare feet on the floor caused Booth to open his eyes and look up as she approached.

He took the bottle of wine that had been trapped between her arm and her body just as it was starting to slip and Brennan placed the plate on the coffee table and sat down, holding the two glasses as Booth poured wine for both of them and set the bottle on the table.

"Not that I'm complaining or anything, Bones, but what made you decide to let the FBI techs handle the rest of the testing?" He asked, figuring that now that they were home, it was safe to ask. Booth leaned back on the couch again, swirling his glass and pulling Brennan in close next to him with his other hand as she molded into his side.

"You've had a rough day," she told him as she patted his thigh with one hand. "And I just figured that it would be nice for you to just be able to come home, which I knew you wouldn't do if I decided to stay at the lab to complete the testing. I know that you would have come with me and spent however long on the couch, waiting on me just so that I wouldn't have to worry about finding my own way home." Brennan took a long sip of wine. "This also meant that Hodgins could stay home with Michael and Angela rather than coming back in for particulates analysis…" It sounded as if she might continue, but when she didn't, Booth's curiosity got the better of him.

"Is that it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's just that you don't normally trust the FBI techs to do anything, even if it is basic forensics 101 level stuff, so I guess, I don't really buy that. I mean, I'm sure Hodgins is glad for the break—and I am, too, for that matter, but I don't think that's it."

"Okay, how about this… Maybe I just wanted to you enjoy some part of this day. Just because Parker isn't here, in the flesh, it doesn't mean that you cannot celebrate the birth of your son in other ways."

"Other ways?"

Brennan pointed to the coffee table. "Pie. Wine. A nice quiet night at home. Dad has Christine," her voice was low and suggestive. "It's nothing fancy and it probably doesn't compare to having Parker here, but…"

"God, I love you, Bones." The gravely fierceness in his voice startled her. She rubbed his forearm that was wrapped around her own arm that was trapped between them with her hand.

"I love you, too, Booth." She then leaned forward and picked up the plate and handed it to Booth, who took it graciously. He took the fork from where it rested on the plate and cut off a piece, which he first offered to Brennan, but upon her decline, claimed for himself with a hum of appreciation.

"I've never been one to celebrate birthdays," Brennan stated, sitting up slightly. "For the longest time, I felt like it was just the arbitrary marking of another year passed. Another revolution around the sun. Another year alone." That caught Booth's attention and the piece of pie he held on his fork fell off as his attention went sharply from the enjoyment of his tasty treat to Brennan and what she was saying.

"Bones—" Booth shook his head, not sure where she was taking the conversation, and not sure if he wanted to hear it. It always broke his heart when she revealed little pieces of herself, but at the same time, it warmed his heart that she thought enough of him to share those pieces, good and bad—which was why when she continued, he made no other effort to stop her.

"I went over a decade—close to fifteen years without celebrating birthdays, my own or anyone else's. I thought by not celebrating, it would help me lose track of how much time I spent without family, friends, without loved ones, without anyone." She quickly wiped a tear away, and Booth leaned forward to put what was left of the pie back on the coffee table. "But over time, all that did was make me more aware of my solitary life."

Brennan leaned back into his side to drive in her next point.

"But then you came along and ruffled my plumage…"

"Feathers, Bones. I ruffled your feathers," he said under his breath without interrupting her.

"…And you snooped through my file that I gave to you when I asked you to investigate my parents' disappearance to find out when my birthday was—"

"Wha—I did not snoop!"

"Yes, Booth. You did. I certainly didn't tell you when it was. I accused Angela of telling you, but she said she didn't even know."

"Okay, yeah. I snooped," he shrugged and smiled unapologetically. "But the file was in my possession already, it's not like I got it behind your back."

Brennan made a non-committal gesture as if she couldn't decide whether that was any better than getting it behind her back. She chose not to comment on that.

"And you remembered to send me something when my birthday came."

"And you sent it back, if I recall correctly," Booth said with a slight laugh.

"I did. Three times. You were relentless in your insistence that I take and keep it."

"Seeley Booth does _not_ take no for an answer. What made you finally decide to keep it that last time I sent it back?"

"Your insistence that I keep it. It was the first time anyone had remembered my birthday in so long. You thought enough of me to send something and it meant even more that you kept sending it back to me. What I don't understand is, why didn't you give it to me on purpose?"

Booth shrugged. "I didn't want to make a big deal of the gift giving, but it happened anyway with you returning it and me sending it back. You still use it, too. I've seen it on your desk."

"I do. It's a nice fountain pen. It's the perfect shape for my hands, it's a good weight, but not cumbersome, and it's refillable. I've changed the nib on it, but I love it."

"I love that it is something that you still use."

Booth kissed the crown of Brennan's head.

"It's your presence in my life that allowed me to appreciate the celebration of life and all the moments in between those days. You knew I never wanted kids, but your presence gave me a different view into a life with children than I had ever seen, especially in my years alone. You made me want that for myself—and only with you."

Booth remained still and silent, knowing that whatever her point, he knew the kind of person she was and how big her heart could be; he knew that whatever she was about to share with him would take his breath away.

"Without you," she continued after an extended silence, "I never would have seen the purpose of such celebrations and I probably never would have had the joys of a child in my life anyway. I'm glad to have shared this day with you, as a parent, Booth, even if Parker isn't physically here. I see how much the day means to you, and it is for that reason that it also means a lot to me. I love that little boy so much."

Booth could feel warmth spread throughout his chest as it swelled with pride. She loved his kid! He'd always known that, but her willingness to openly share her feelings in this manner still brought him great joy.

"He's not so little anymore though," Booth interjected. "God, Bones. Thirteen! Time really goes by so fast."

"Yes it does. It is almost incomprehensible for me to think that Christine will be one next month. As her birthday approaches, I have a better understanding of all the little joys a parent takes from the milestones in their child's life. Birthdays truly are special."

"Don't ever let anyone tell you that you don't have a big heart," he couldn't help but hold her a little tighter, the tips of his fingers patting her hip. "So many people take it all for granted. They live day to day, just trying to hurry up to get to the next one without enjoying the moment they are in, and maybe they feel as if they have _nothing _to celebrate or no one to celebrate with, but there is always something. Most people don't bother looking hard enough to see that."

Brennan sighed and closed her eyes, blinking tears away before locking her gaze with his, "I was one of those people once."

He hadn't expected her to admit that. He took a long drink of his wine and she found her gaze drawn to his Adam's apple as it slid smoothly under his skin as he swallowed. "I know you were. Life shouldn't be like that for anyone. I'm happy to have changed that for you, Bones."

"Me, too."

Brennan reached her hand around the top of Booth's shoulder and behind his head to bring his face down to hers for a kiss. As her hand touched his neck, she noticed that he was still rife with tension in his muscles. The kiss was brief, as her attention went to palpating both his shoulders and his neck.

"You're still carrying a ton of tension, Booth."

"Today was rough, Bones. It's going to take a bit more than a glass of wine and a partial piece of pie to relax me."

Before Booth could protest, she was out of his arms and standing in front of him. "Lay face down on the couch."

Booth downed the rest of his wine and set the glass down before obeying. He didn't need to be asked twice. He knew exactly what her plan was.

Brennan straddled his hips and started working her hands into his lower back muscles.

For several minutes, the only sounds in the room were the low gruff grunts Booth released as Brennan's hands worked expertly on his lumbar region. As she moved up his back into the thoracic region, her mind was working something over. She was unsure if she should bring it up, as she knew that it would upset Booth. It always upset Booth when she would bring up her time on the run, but she also knew that he'd rather she talk to him rather than keep it inside.

"I missed Michael's birthday," she finally said.

"Huh?" Booth's mind was entirely focused on the relief in his muscles.

"When I was on the lam, I missed Michael's birthday. Angela was quite upset with me."

"Oh, I know. I was there. It was about two weeks after you left. Ooooh," Booth grunted as Brennan's hands hit a particularly touch spot between his shoulder blades. "She forced me to go to his party. Told me to stop moping."

"That was the first time I utilized my flower drop idea for communication with her."

"What was the first flower?"

"Delphiniums."

"As in Delphinus, like the constellation; like dolphins?" Booth tried to raise up to turn his head to look back, but Brennan pushed him back down and moved up to his neck and shoulders, manipulating the bare skin and muscles, and feeling as the tension eased under her fingertips.

"Yes, both are derived from the Latin word for dolphin. I figured that would be the first thought to enter Angela's mind, just as it did yours. But I sent them because they also represent July."

"Michael's birth month," Booth finished. "And she would have known it was from you because of the dolphin thing, even if she didn't pick up on the month thing."

"Yes. That's the first time I considered any type of communication with anyone. I didn't want to give the FBI any reason to charge any of you with anything. With the flowers, there was no words for someone to analyze or compare to my previous writings from my books or articles, no handwriting." She traced her name into his flesh with a single finger as she spoke.

"No printer ink, no fingerprints, and flowers can be purchased or picked from anywhere, sent anywhere. Smart, Bones. With as many florists and botanical gardens, it's a system that is actually virtually untraceable."

"I also highly doubted that anyone, other than Angela, would be able to figure out any messages just from a flower even if they did figure out that I was sending them. Dad said that I was being foolish, but this was the one thing that I insisted on the entire time we were gone. It was the only time that I openly defied his advice. After he gave it some thought, he came up with the grave site drop idea and found a way to tell Angela about it. I wanted to send you something, but dad held firm on that."

"As much as I would have loved to hear or have something, _anything_, from you, I'm glad you didn't, Bones. They were watching me much more closely than the others. For the first month, I couldn't take a crap without having a full interrogation afterward."

She slapped his shoulder, "Booth!"

"What? It's true! Okay, okay… it's almost true. I didn't answer my phone, one time. One time! Who takes the phone into the bathroom, right? Well, because I didn't answer my phone, I obviously had to have something to do with your disappearance."

"They interrogated you for that?"

"Not only that, they held me for 48 hours."

"Booth!" She stopped her massage, "Why didn't you tell me?" Brennan stood and tapped Booth's legs to get him to sit up.

"It was nothing, Bones," he shrugged it off as no big deal and tried to change the subject. "Hey, Angela put me in charge of the video camera to tape the important moments of Michael's birthday. She made us a copy. Want to watch?"

"Maybe later, Booth. The system you believe in, the people you work for held you like some common criminal in belief that you were an accomplice to my disappearance after they'd gathered enough evidence to put away your mate? That's not nothing, Booth."

"It's fine, Bones." Booth poured them both some more wine, and picked his pie back up to finish eating it. He took a bite and spoke, "Really, Bones. They were just doing their jobs and going off of the only evidence they had. I don't blame them for that. I blame Pelant."

"But still, it must bother you."

"Only if I think about it too much. Can we talk about something else, please?"

"Can you tell me about the day Parker was born? You can leave out the part where Walter Sherman arrested you after you held your newborn, but I'd really like to hear about it. I still find it hard to believe that you went AWOL."

"Well, until several months ago, I never would have thought that you'd be running from an arrest warrant either, but…" he spoke before he could think about his words possibly being hurtful.

"Point taken."

Booth sent up a silent prayer of thanks that she hadn't taken his words to heart. He should have known better.

"And anyway, there's not much to tell unless you want to hear about the weirdos that were in the waiting room with me. Rebecca wouldn't let me in the room with her. We were on the off part of our on again, off again relationship. I think I'm lucky that I even received a call that she was in labor."

"I'm sorry Booth."

"I'm not going to say that I'm fine with it, but I will say that I more than made up for it by having to actually deliver our daughter."

He took his last bite of pie, a huge chunk of apple covered in pie filling, getting some on his upper lip. He licked his lips to try to clean it off but didn't get it all. Brennan used her finger to wipe his upper lip and then held it out for him to clean it off with his tongue.

"Mmm," he moaned. "Ya know, you taste better than that piece of pie did. Mmm." He placed open-mouthed kisses to her hand and wrist.

Brennan listened to his voice as he hummed into her flesh. Brennan loved the deep sound of his voice. His voiced seemed to move through her, slow and thick, as if his voice held the perfect pitch and timbre which allowed it to freely resonate through her bones and her whole body more freely than anyone else's voice ever had.

"…Bones. Yoo-hoo. Did you hear what I said?"

"What?" She asked. Did she hear him? Oh, yeah… she heard him alright. She just had no clue what he'd been saying. She hadn't even noticed that he stopped kissing her wrist. She was too focused on the perfect consonance of his voice resonating through her skin and into her bones.

"I asked you if you wanted to watch the video of Michael smashing cake and opening presents?"

"Um, yes, please."

Brennan sat up so she was no longer leaning against Booth when he tapped her side, indicating that he wished to get up. As Booth set the video up on the TV, Brennan poured more wine. Booth settled back into the couch and Brennan leaned back into him as the video started.

She watched as the camera panned around the room, making sure to get all of the guests and the decorations in view. She listened as Booth's wonderfully consonant voice talked to people and encouraged them to speak as he captured them on the video camera. Some people shied away, some waved, and others made jokes with the cameraman. Many left messages to the Hodgins family and Michael that were sure to be cherished years later. Brennan watched all of her friends and colleagues wish the little boy happy birthday. She watched as Angela's father played a riff on his guitar before giving a cryptically sweet birthday message. As the cameraman, Booth was the last to leave a message. Brennan had a brief moment of sorrow that she did not have a message for Michael as did everyone else, until Uncle Booth made sure that Michael would know that "Aunt Bones loves you and wishes she could be here today."

"You included me."

"Of course," he said as he squeezed her into his side.

Then the camera cut out and flashed to Michael Vincent being helped by Angela and Hodgins to rip the paper off his presents. She watched as Michael was handed gift after gift, each beautifully wrapped in bright, vibrant colors. Finally, after several gifts, Michael was starting to grasp the concept of ripping the paper off and did so with great joy and laughter, more amused at the ripping paper than of the contents inside.

When the video cut to singing, Brennan let out a little laugh and a few tears as she watched Angela carry in a big sheet cake expertly and artistically decorated, followed by Hodgins, carrying a smaller round smash cake decorated with plants and bugs made of icing with a single candle on top. Michael's hands had to be held back to prevent him from trying to grab the candle as he was encouraged to blow out the candle when the singing stopped. After the candle was removed, Michael needed no encouragement in reaching his fist straight into the blue and green icing and smashing the chocolate cake half into his mouth and the rest on his cheeks, nose and chin. He smacked his hands into the icing a few times before grabbing another fistful. Brennan watched him play in the cake and eat his fill, smearing his clothes and hair with icing before he was done.

When the video ended, Brennan looked over to Booth, expecting to see him smiling at her or ask her what she thought, but instead she saw that he was asleep.

She took a moment to admire the youthful look on his sleeping face. His eyes closed, the dark lashes forming a delicate fan across the tops of his zygomatic arches. His lips slightly parted and bare chest rising and falling steadily with each breath. Brennan took the wine glass out of his loose grip and set it on the coffee table with hers and settled herself into his side, snuggling her face into the side of his neck, moving her lips and tongue across his skin.

The feel of her lips against his throat, roused Booth from his light sleep, and drew a deep noise of arousal from the sleepy man.

As the sound of Booth's voice resonated within her, Brennan found herself moving to straddle Booth to get closer to him.

"I'm sorry that you couldn't spend Parker's birthday with him," she said, her lips right next to his ear.

"I'm sorry we _both_ had to spend today away from him. He may not be your child biologically, but you are his parent now, too. I now know from everything we've discussed tonight that missing him today has affected you as much it has me; you've just handled it more gracefully. And that… the fact that it matters so much to you, means so much to me." He grabbed her hips and pulled her into himself.

"And it apparently arouses you," Brennan observed.

"There's probably some anthropological mumbo jumbo about the male of the species ensuring the well-being of his offspring by choosing a desirable mate, right? You ready for bed?"

"But I thought you desired to have sex with me," she shifted her hips.

"Definitely. In bed. You ready?"

Brennan moved to get up, "Sure, let me just clean some of thi—Ahh! Booth, put me down," she squealed as Booth tightened his grip around her and stood up.

"That can wait, Bones."

"Fine," she relented. "But you are not carrying me up those stairs after I just worked all of the knots out of your back."

"Fine." He put her down and they made their way up the stairs, but as they reached the top, he picked her back up.

"Booth!"

"I only agreed to not carry you up the stairs."

"You are incorrigible," she exclaimed as the door of their bedroom slammed behind them.

* * *

**Dispatch, I hope this is everything that you wanted. I hope your holidays were wonderful and wish you a Happy New Year.**

**XOXO,  
Your Secret Santa (CrayonClown)**

**Please don't read and run! A few kind words are always nice to read.**


End file.
